Things To Come
by Roofran411
Summary: Kate has given Petruchio some news which delights and terrifies him. A continuation of the taming of the shrew and the maturing of her tamer.


TOTS: Things to Come

Strictly speaking, this story should come before 'I Do Love Wednesdays' but sometimes these things write themselves.

As always, I have 'borrowed' Petruchio and Kate from Shakespeare and Sally Wainwright, but I owe almost as much to Rufus Sewell and Shirley Henderson for their creations of these wonderful characters.

I am always grateful for the pleasure all four continue to give me.

I have given this an M rating for a little steaminess and two four letter words.

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><p><span>THINGS TO COME<span>

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I remember the day she told me she was pregnant.

It was the day that Bianca didn't get married.

It was also the day I found out that my best mate was going to be my new father.

At least, when they told us he was going to marry my mother-in-law.

I had picked Kate up from the House of Commons to go to Bianca's wedding when her mother rang to say that the wedding was off.

All over a little thing like not signing a pre-nup thingy thing.

Kate says they are worthless any way.

They, Bianca and her toy boy, are still not married, still together but still not married.

Harry and my in-law are married and very happily too.

But this isn't about them! This is about my Kate...and me.

We had sat through several hours of Bianca and her mother trying to persuade Lucentio, and Harry, and Kate that signing a pre-nup was a good thing.

When we got married, it hadn't been mentioned at all, so I had no idea of her views on it. To be honest, I knew she had money. I mean, I wanted to meet her because she had money but there's money and there's **money**!

I never thought of pre-nups! I didn't think that pre-nups would come into it: in fact I didn't know that she was in_ that_ league! I mean, pre-nups mean... millions, and not just one or two or even three._ Megabucks!_

I kept my mouth shut about this. Well I had to, I was too gobsmacked to have any views.

So all I said when asked my views, was "Keep it simple, either get married or don't."

I was surprised to hear Kate's views. Gratified and surprised.

I asked her about this when we got in the lift.

"You didn't ask me to sign one of those pre-natal thingy thing." I said.

"No. "she said dismissively.

"You sorry you didn't?"

"No. They are not worth the paper they are printed on. The Law Society wanted us to bring it in but we threw it out. Said we had better things to do with our time."  
>"But would you? If it was... worth the paper, I mean."<p>

She looked at me pursing her lips. I never know what she thinks. She knows how to play her cards close to her chest. Then her little dimples appeared and she shook her head.

"No" she said softly, "no." and she moved over to me and kissed me.

My infuriating, annoying, bad-tempered, sarcastic, vitriolic, exciting, intoxicating, beautiful Kate.

Some of the best things that have happened to me have happened in a lift, particularly that lift.

I was smiling at her when she said,

"Ooh! I should have told you before. I'm pregnant!

I hadn't thought about it before, being a father. I mean, Yeah! I had thought about the title and the house and yeah, I should have an heir but not the actuality of being a father...

I wasn't prepared for how I would feel when Kate told me. Stunned, staggered: before it happened to me, I never understood why are men always staggered. I mean it is a natural result of our actions. If a man and woman shag and they do not take precautions, then the woman is going to end up being up the spout. However... when it did happen to me...staggered was not the word. Like a punch in the guts. Then amazingly happy, overjoyed.

I was holding her and laughing and kissing her, and I could hear Kate going on about how I would have to look after them because she wasn't giving up her career. I didn't care. If she had said I would have to swim the English Channel with one hand tied behind my back, I would have agreed.

When it clicked.

"Them? ...them?"

She had said "**them**".

My Kate's dimples appeared and she said "Triplets."

I wanted to hug her, kiss her. I said "I want to shag you here and now." And she said "Go on then. I dare you."

But we went home and did it instead.

In the car on the way home, she showed me the photo thing of the scan.

I said, "I can't make anything of it." and Kate said, "Well, that's because you've got it upside down."

She took it from me, turned it and gave it back. I still thought it looked like a snowy telly screen but decided it wiser to keep my views to myself. So I sat beside her and watched her looking at it, smiling her little dimpled smile till she looked at me and we smiled at each other and hugged each other and just held each other.

The cab pulled up outside our Chelsea house. I unlocked the front door and let her in. She stood just inside and waited while I wrestled the keys out and dropped them into the bowl that stood on the hall table. I leaned into her, pressing her against the wall, with a hand on either side of her face, looking down into her eyes, at her mouth. Her beautiful, soft, inviting mouth.

"Well, Lady Charlbury?"

"Well, Lord Charlbury?"

"Here and now?"

Her tongue slipped between her lips.

"If this is the only place I'm going to get it, here and now but I'd rather it was in bed."

I ran my tongue over her lips and she slid her arms around my neck. I lifted her and tipped her over my shoulder, fireman's lift fashion.

She protested loudly.

"You are supposed to sweep me up in your arms."

"Six feet to the bed and I might: but down the hall, up a flight of stairs, along a landing and into our bedroom? No way! I don't want a hernia or do my back in..."

"You cheeky sod! I'm not that heavy! In fact I'm ..."

"Pregnant with triplets and we are almost there now. Open the door, Kate." I was going to throw her onto the bed but thought it wiser not to and lowered her gently until she was sitting on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her.

"Is it alright Kate?"

"What?" She was taking her hair down.  
>"You know - shagging?"<br>She burst out laughing.

"It was alright last night!"She shook her hair free.

"Yes but I didn't know last night!"

She held my ears, and kissed me.

"I do love you, Petruchio Isambard Edward Crick, even if you are a loony."

She was pushing my coat off, so I thought I would help her with hers. Then her shoes, avocado courts with four inch heels. Her feet are so tiny; I stroked them gently till she shivered. I ran my hands up her thighs to undo her suspenders. Surprise! She wasn't wearing a belt but Stay-up stockings with wide black lace tops. Her bra and knickers were black lace too. Kate always wears the sexiest underwear I have ever seen ...she just has no idea how sexy. Nothing skimpy, just silky soft lacy things. I asked her once how she chose them. Puzzled, she just shrugged and said "pretty ...and comfortable". Well, comfortable was not the word for how they made me feel and another thing; Marks & Spencer they were not. Their sainted Margaret may say that she and everybody else buys M&S, but Kate doesn't! Marks & Sparks do not sell the sort of knickers Kate wears!

"Take my skirt off."

"Don't be so bossy!"

"Well, it will get creased."

"Who cares?"

She laughed, a little soft chuckle.

"You don't, unless it gets in the way."

"That's true but it is better with it off."

So I unzipped it and slid it down and she undid my belt and unzipped my pants.

" Jesus! Your hands are cold!"

"You want me to stop?"

I kissed the hollow of her throat. "No! No Kate. Don't stop."

It was only a second to kick them off while she undid my tie and the buttons of my shirt. Even less to take off her lovely undies.

Her hands were in my hair now, her mouth moving gently against mine. It took an effort to drag my mouth away so I could look at her.

"You don't look very pregnant."

She smiled. My hand drifted over her belly.

"You don't feel pregnant. "

"Not there! Moron!

And she moved my hand up three or four inches and held it, gently pressed against her. I could feel a small solid lump. I looked at her, amazed.

"Are you going to admire your handiwork all night or are you going to...!"

Her hand slipped back down and caressed my balls, then my cock. I took a sharp intake of breath and kissed her mouth and then her breast, cupping it. And we forgot about babies and pregnancies and everything else except her and me. Her body and mine. Her mouth. Her beautiful mouth, a Perfect _**M**_, tempting me as it always did.

"Your mouth, Kate"

And I told her explicitly what I wanted to do to it and what I wanted her to do with it.

And I did and shedid; she was making soft wordless sounds and I was saying all the exciting, sexy, love words to her until I wasn't able to say anything except Kate, Kate, Kate...and there were crashing waves, and stars and fireworks.

And everything was clear and bright.

And we were holding each other close and she was soft and small and warm in my arms.

"I love you." I murmured.

"I know you do."

"And you love me."

"You know I do."

.  
>Later we were sitting on the sofa in our dressing gowns eating our supper. Kate had said she would get it. She can cook the most marvellous full English but it is downhill all the way after that. The variety ranges from Smash with sausages and Bisto ready-mix gravy to Heinz spaghetti hoops ...or dread of dreads ... Pot Noodle!<p>

It's not that she isn't interested in food; she just isn't interested in cooking. However, since I took over getting the meals, there has been a vast improvement, even if I say so myself.

That night it wasn't so bad, beans on toast, followed by a pot of Activia.

She wriggled down between me and the sofa back and tucked her hand inside my dressing gown.

A thought occurred to me.

I tightened my arm around her, and pressed my mouth against her forehead.

"Kate ...Kate, you didn't mean it, did you? Do you really think I would lose the babies or chuck them in the duck pond...?"

She lifted her head to look at me, her eyebrows raised, her cool politician's look in her eyes. As I have said, I never know quite what she is thinking.

"Well, wouldn't you?"

"No! You know I wouldn't. I would have to be totally irresponsible to...you can't think I would..." Then her little dimples appeared, and she kissed my chest.

"I love you, Kate."

"I certainly hope so! With three babies on the way!"

Then she said softly," I wanted you there with me... yesterday, when they did the scan. "

"I wish I had been."

"You can come next time ... Do you want to?"  
>"Mmm ".<p>

"There will be lots of clinics and classes I will have to go to... Will you come with me?"

"Of course." and found I meant it; me, who mocked and jeered at married mates who went to antenatal clinics. I wanted to! I want to share as much of it as I could and I didn't care who laughed. So that was how they felt! They weren't just being PC.

"When are you going to tell your old lady and Bianca?"

"Not yet; if I tell Bianca, it will be out. She is about as discreet as... 'Hello magazine'. I don't want it to get out. I don't want it all over the papers yet. I can see the headlines! **Minola: Three Babies At Once! "**

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My birthday came. I was 39. When we woke, she gave me my present, some Dolce & Gabbana toiletries. She said, "I am not going in to the House today. I thought we could have the day together. Would you like to go down to Hazlington?"

I looked at her quite astonished: Kate never takes time off from the Commons.

We went down to Hazlington and I did what I was told, I closed my eyes while she led me through the house, through the kitchen yard, I could feel the gravel path, through the arch. I knew we were going to the stables when the gravel changed to cobbles under my feet. She opened the big double doors.

"You can open them now."

The stables had been recently re-swept and the first box was newly laid with straw, a string bag of fresh hay hung and there was water in the trough. And...

A horse!

Kate was giving me a horse!

He was a young fast black beauty with a pedigree name almost as long as mine.

We called him after the black haired 20 years old who, 350 years ago, hid amongst the servants in our kitchens and later rewarded my family with an earldom.

The Merry Monarch.

Charlie.

"I thought he can live at the livery stables when we are in London and when we come down, we can drive over and you can ride him back here and when we leave, you can ride him back. Or there's a horse box if you would rather tow. Go on. The gear's there. You have a ride. I'll sort out lunch, be back by one. "

I did think that sounded ominous and wondered what we were going to get, but when I got back, she had arranged for caterers to come in and we had a splendid spread: lobster, my favourite, chocolate Roulade, another favourite, with champagne! Although Kate only had half a glass.

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Almost four weeks later, it was Kate's birthday; I bought her a pair of Louboutin scarlet high heeled knee boots.

"I love them, I love, love, love them."

She has a thing about shoes, although she always wears flats in the Commons.

"I'll never wear them around Westminster."

"Wear them at Hazlington for me," I grinned." with those red undies, you know the ones...and nothing else for preference. "

"I won't be able to do that soon." she said. She was having trouble now doing up her skirts, and she was beginning to show a definite bump.

"It's OK if I don't take off my jacket." she thought but I wasn't so sure.

"You've got to tell your Mum, before they start speculating in the gossip pages."

We spent most of her birthday at the antenatal clinic. I watched fascinated as they did the second scan. We had decided we didn't want to know their sex; there are not too many surprises left to us these days.

Kate said she wanted boys, I sort of agreed with her, I need an heir for the title but there were times I looked at Kate and wondered how it would be to have a dark eyed little girl to hold, who would smile at me with Kate's dimples, although it's doubtful. There hasn't been a girl in my family for five generations.

Kate's old lady gave her a birthday lunch on the Sunday.

Bianca, Lucentio, Harry and us.

She and Harry were full of their wedding plans.

"Have you set a date yet?" Kate asked.

"We thought May or June, didn't we, Harry? Why?"

"June might be better."

"Why? Are you going to be away? "

Kate looked at me.

Why is it that Kate, the most articulate of women, can be reduced to silence by Bianca or her mother?

"She doesn't want to waddle up the aisle behind you."

"Whatever do you mean 'waddle'?

I looked at Kate. She was pink. I sniggered.

"She will be nine months pregnant ...with triplets! "

To say they were astonished is putting it mildly.

I don't know why.

Bianca and her mum sat with their mouths open, as if I had invented a new word and they didn't know what it meant.

There are times when I believe they think that we don't do it. They certainly think that Kate doesn't! After all, Bianca had said, who would want _her_?

Bianca, so caught up in her own beauty that she had no thought that anyone could find her sister beautiful or desirable. Her mother too. Well, she is a bit empty –headed on times!

Then, Bianca asked "But how?" in such a bewildered tone.

I could see Kate, her face deep crimson, almost shrivelling, sinking down inside her jacket.

The rage was rising in me. No-one is going to put Kate down, _not in front of me_!

"Oh, I expect it was something she picked up off a toilet seat, or was it a turkey baster, or perhaps it was an immaculate conception. Oh I know! It was the usual way. How the fucking hell do you think?"

I looked at Bianca, letting my anger and dislike show.

She did have the grace to look mortified.

"I didn't mean... anything, I meant... I thought she would be on the pill or something...I mean ...with her career..."

"That's none of your fucking business! I would have thought you would have been happy for her, for us."

Her mum rushed in. "We are." She turned to Kate.

"Of course we are, darling. It's wonderful news. Isn't it? Harry? Bianca?"

I looked at Kate. She looked back, tilting her head, her eyes begging, 'Cool it '

I let my temper slide back down.

I could hear her Mum going on." It _is_ wonderful! Isn't Harry?"

I looked at Harry.

"Well mate, how does it feel to know you are going to marry a granny?"

The expression on his face was of horrified disbelief! And hers!

And yeah! I enjoyed that!

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Christmas was on us and we went down to Hazlington for the recess.

I cleaned up Granny's old saddle, put Kate up on Charlie and led him over the estate, showing her all the places I loved, that I had been shown by my old man and Grandpa and John Matthews, our old game keeper. He is retired now but the Matthews have always worked at Hazlington, so young John, his son, was happy to come to work at Hazlington. We had spent most of our childhood with his dad, and mine, roaming the Hazlington woods.

Kate was beginning to look like a small tank.

In all these baby books, they say 'mum becomes languid and slows down'; whoever wrote them had never met Kate. There was no slowing down with her. Her mind and tongue were as sharp as ever. She was glowing beautiful.

"We have to choose names. What do you think? Do you have many family names?"

"Of course we have loads of family names; and Isambard is always included. But we don't have to have any of them if you don't want them. One thing though, Kate, nothing outlandish! **I** have had to put up with that all my life. My kids are not going through _that. Petruchio! _Who would call their kid that? And Piers is not much better! "

"How did your dad come up with that?"

"My initials. **P**etruchio **I**sambard **E**dward. An acronym of sorts, I suppose."

"What I thought ... I thought maybe ...We could have the grandfathers' names. Rupert for your dad..."

"God, Kate! Not Michelangelo! Didn't I just say..."

"No, no, I thought ...um, Michael for Daddy; he was always called Mike here in London. And Peter, after you. We can give them a second name each and then Isambard, if you would like that."

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good."

"What about girls' names?"

"I don't think we need to bother; there hasn't been a girl in the family for over a hundred years."

"You've only had one baby for each of the last three generations. It took me to break that jinx so perhaps I will break the girl one too."

She smiled smugly.

My arms were around her and I could feel the little thumps that were our babies kicking.

That Christmas was the best that I can ever remember.

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The New Year came and May rushed towards us at the speed of light or so it seemed to me. It didn't to Kate.

Then, at the end of March we had a nasty shock; Professor Andrews, Kate's obstetrician, told us that Kate should have a Caesarean,

"Elective surgery. "she said, "which means we choose; not out of necessity."

"Why?" asked Kate.

"Several things, there are triplets, which means a long labour, which means a risk to you and the babies, then there's your age, you are an elderly primip. At thirty nine, you are old to be having a first baby. So it is all for safety."

"But surely," I said, and I noticed my voice was shaking." An operation like this is ..." and it trailed away. I didn't want them to know how gut-wrenchingly terrified I was at the thought of it.

"No, it is comparatively risk free."

Comparatively! Christ!

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Kate went into the House every day till the beginning of May and the Big Day arrived faster than I imagined possible.

Kate was admitted late evening and I went with her into the Op. Suite. They had told us to choose the names ready and in order, so there would be no confusion.

I was with her when she had her pre –med, and with her when they gave her the anaesthetic. I held her hand as she counted down backwards "Nine...eight... seven..." and she was out.

She flopped as if she was dead. Dear God, Kate, Kate. And they threw me out as they wheeled her into the operating theatre.

They told me there was a waiting room but I waited outside in the corridor.

Two o'clock in the morning in a hospital corridor is a cold and lonely place. I was shaking and shivering and desperately wished I had never given up fags: funny thing, I didn't have the smallest desire for booze. I stood my forehead pressed against the cold wall, trying to block out thoughts of losing Kate.

I don't know how long.

The swing doors opened and the Sister came towards me; I could hear a baby; protesting loudly about entering this world.

"Your eldest son is here. Come and see him." she smiled and took me back.

"Kate?"

"Kate is doing fine. Which name have you chosen, so we can put on his tag? "

"Rupert" I said as she put him in my arms. I looked down into his little face and saw my own. Then I couldn't see him, my eyes had misted up.

Then another little voice, making its presence felt.

"Number two has arrived by the sound of it."

Within minutes Michael had joined his brother in my arms and then Sister took Rupert from me and gave me Peter.

"Identical." she said in satisfaction.

"Kate?"

"Kate is fine, doing really well. When she comes around, you can see her for ten minutes."

So I was sitting next to her bed, holding her hand when she opened her eyes.

"Hello"

She smiled a weak little smile.

"Hello."

"Well done you! Three boys; I did tell you, didn't I? Sorry Kate but they all look like me."

"Identical?"

"Mmm. Kate, they are so beautiful, so little. I can't believe how tiny they are, so perfect."

Then a nurse pushed the cots into the room.

"You can have a quick look and a little cuddle, and then you must sleep."

She looked at them and I looked at her.

My love, my dove, my beautiful Kate.

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When I left the hospital, there was a reporter and a photographer hanging about on the off chance of anything going on.

"Lord Charlbury. Katherine? Any news?"

I crossed the steps towards them. It was just four o'clock on a drizzly night. I supposed they deserved something after waiting on a miserable night like this.

"Yes, yes. Three boys. Caesarean Section."

"And Katherine? How is she? How much did they weigh? "

"She is fine. They weighed four pounds ten, four pounds seven and four pounds twelve

"Do you have any names?"

I was beginning to edge my way further down the steps.

"Yes. Rupert, Michael and Peter...now gentlemen, if you will excuse me, I'm going home to get some sleep, while I still can! Good night."

"Goodnight, Lord Charlbury ...and congratulations!"

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><p>Mrs Margaret Thatcher, first woman prime Minister of the UK. was asked, shortly after winning the election, where she bought her underwear. Her reply was "Marks &amp; Spencer, doesn't everyone?"<p>

My reaction to this was surprise that she didn't give a more caustic answer; and then to think no-one would ask a man where he buys his!

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With the exception of Michael and Piers, all names in this story come from the BBC 'Taming of the Shrew' website, posted at the time of the original showing. Michael and Piers are my invention.

In TOTS, Shakespeare Retold, our 'Hero' is never named. So besides Petruchio, I gave him the names from the website _and_ a nickname.

I chose Piers as the nickname as having 'upper class' undertones and one, that equally with Petruchio and his title, he could be bullied about and so, it could be a name Petruchio could hate almost as much as his real one.

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